


When It Rains

by LazBriar



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series), Helluva Boss (Web Series)
Genre: Anal, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fellatio, Gay, Gay but somehow not gay too, M/M, Mating Press, Oral, Reader Insert, Spitroasting, Threesome, commission, friend stuff, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-19 07:57:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22007695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazBriar/pseuds/LazBriar
Summary: Moxxie and Millie want some musical inspiration, so invite you back to their apartment.
Relationships: Millie (Helluva Boss)/Reader, Millie/Moxxie (Helluva Boss), Moxxie (Helluva Boss)/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 82





	When It Rains

**Author's Note:**

> Wowee! It's time for a commission, a smutty commission! This one features you, a reader insert, having a boink with the attractive couple Moxxie and Millie!

**When It Rains**

By Laz Briar

When it rains, Pentagram City feels like a place you _might_ want to live in. The strange neon lights paint the wet asphalt and even sinners find refuge indoors, lulling the rambunctious underworld into a temporary quiet. Granted, indoors, demons are probably doing more crimes, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

For you, at least, it’s nice and peaceful. And it’s better, because tonight you’re not out of the apartment for just sightseeing. No, you’re with some old friends, some _good_ friends, the one real valuable commodity in this blasted hellscape. You’ve helped them – and their business – with a variety of things like book-cooking and money laundering, and given their occupation it’s needed more often than not. Imps get to all sorts of trouble, after all. Huh, is that why their organization is called IMP? You never asked because it felt a little “touchy,” what with assumptions about imp-kind and all, but now that you think about it. . .

“Sweet tea, please, and for the love of Lucifer, no hair in the ice.”

Moxxie’s voice pulls your attention. He and his lovely wife Millie are sitting across you at one of the local diners. _Krugs_ or _Mugs_ or something weird. You all agreed to meet again tonight for a little relaxation, something you’ve been doing for the past few years. A place to unwind after work, and given with IMP gets up too, it’s become quite the ritual. You certainly don’t mind. In fact, things with the duo have gone great. The three of you have gotten close, _real_ close – intimately, even. In a comfortable sort of way not many were lucky enough to maintain in terms of a relationship.

“Oooh, and darlin’, a little buzzer with my margarita, easy on the salt though. Cut of duck too, if ya’ have it lyin’ around.”

Mox looked to his wife, Mil, easily the more “chaotic” of the two. “Buzzer?” he said, putting his menu down and raising a brow.

“A little early for a party favor, isn’t it hun?”

She waved her hand. “Just something to keep the edges soft, _hun.”_

You made your order too. Nothing extravagant, as Hell was a place where food could be of. . . suspect value. You were here for the company.

Indeed, the three of you were together again tonight after IMP pulled off a successful job (success here meaning they had fifteen percent less bystander casualties than usual). But, there was something else. Mil and Mox pulled you aside and mentioned they wanted to ask you something.

As dinner got started you three got up to your usual “chew the fat” antics, as friends are wont to do, Millie pushed aside her dinner plate and propped elbows on the table, looking at you. Mox, despite his scarlet features, looked like he was blushing. Did uh, something happen?

“Soooo Anon, about the _other_ thing.”

You could take a few guesses. “Another tax evasion scheme?” you say with a smirk. Taxes Down Below weren’t exactly as they seemed, more to do with paying off overlords, but hey, everyone loved to dodge.

“Oh, no, no, we’re in the black. For now,” said Mox, wiping his mouth, clearing his throat. “It’s um. Well. . .”

Millie fluttered her eyes in a very. . . come-hither sort of way. You blinked. Maybe it was just the buzzer she ordered.

“We’ve been needing inspiration for our music, lately,” said Milly, eyes rolling over you. “You know, a little salt to the pepper, salsa on the quesadilla, honey in the wine!”

“You want cooking lessons?” you offer.

Mox manages a chuckle. He always did laugh at your terrible jokes. Cute.

“No, not quite,” he says. “Well. Er. Millie, let’s just tell him!”

She flashed him a glance. “Oho, eager are we, hun?”

“I just prefer the policy of honesty and. . .”

Honesty? “Is everything okay?” you ask.

They both look to you. “Everything’s wonderful, anon,” says Mox with a smile. “You’re our friend. And we trust you, er, with a lot of things.”

Millie nudged her beau. “My _husband_ is trying to say we want to sleep with you. We think that’ll be a _wonderful_ source of new material! Oh Moxxy-woxxy’s had creator’s block for sooooo long. I tried giving him a blowie when he strummed guitar and it didn’t do diddly!”

Moxxie coughed, sputtering, beating his chest with fist. “M-Millie!”

“Oh, relax you ol’ fuddy duddy. Anon doesn’t mind! Do you?”

Okay, _whoa._ About a tidal wave of new things hit you at once. First off, Millie giving a blowjob? Hmm, you didn’t want to think of Mox’s girl like that, but you had to admit, it was an appealing idea. Secondly, _what._ They wanted to _what!?_

“Hah, haha, right,” you say, chuckling. “Good one, you two. Sleep together, sure.”

Millie frowned. “We’re serious!”

Moxxie glanced around, making sure no one could hear you three (not like there was anyone to hear you anyway). He leaned a bit, the flush of his cheeks turning a brighter hue.

“Yes, yes, we are, Anon. We thought about this a while and, well, what better way to spice things up, ehehe.”

Spice things up? This was happening pretty fast. Not that you were complaining, exactly. Millie was all sorts of attractive, but so was Mox. Before you knew he was getting hitched, you were dead hopeful to ask him out. Both of them were cute what with their impish features, crimson skin, wide eyes, curled black horns and salt-and-pepper hair. Still, you didn’t want to throw yourself in their relationship. Stuff like that could get all sorts of awkward.

“Well I’m flattered,” you start to say. “But uh, are you sure about that? I don’t want to. . .”

You trail off as Mille’s hand comes to yours, resting over it. “Anon. Please. It takes two to tango but three to party.”

Moxxie mimicked his wife, his hand over yours. “And we want to uh, party.”

These two want to _party_? Okay, Millie you can see, she’s got that wild spirit in her, even if it’s been tempered by marriage. But Mox? That handsome devil plays it so straight – pun not intended. You’re surprised he’s “into” it, whatever it is. You could take a guess.

“Uh, just so I’m clear,” you say. “What are we talking about?”

Millie laughed. “We’re all gonna FUCK, Anon! Sheesh.”

-*-

What Mox and Mil’s apartment lacked in luxury it surely made up for in heart. The two lovebirds had made their dingy home an adorable a nest, a hearth that could foster a strong relationship – even if they were imps. You don’t think you’ve ever been to their place, but it wasn’t dissimilar from your own. Really, unless you were one of the more affluent sinners, a nice place was hard to get. In fact, lucky to even have an apartment, really, considering this was Hell.

Still, buzzed on wine and good food, you weren’t paying attention. Rather, your eyes were stuck on your two shorter companions. The thing about alcohol is it peeled off the prudent layers of the mind, melted away the restraints. Sure, everyone had a lewd thought in private, but it was just that: private. Buzzed? Alright, now you were _feeling it._ Mil was looking extra curvy, the way her hips danced in timid sashays enticing you to follow. Mox too was a perfect mix of handsome and cute. He had these wide, innocent eyes and his tendency to remain _mannered_ was. . . oh gosh. You remember why you wanted to date him so long ago.

“Ahhhh,” Millie gasped, arms outstretched as she waded into the living room while Mox closed the door.

“Yes, nice to be home,” Mox commented, locking the knob and striding past you. “Make yourself cozy, Anon. Anything you’d like? Get you a drink?”

You know, more alcohol does sound nice, but you’d like to be _coherent_ for all of this. You’re not about to drown a threesome with your two friends in a blurry mess of drunk. Maybe later, but for now. . .

“Aw, no thanks Mox,” you say.

“Yeah!” chirped Mil. “Fuck the drinks, fuck instead!”

Wow, she was explosive. Mox cleared his throat. “In a moment dear, let’s make sure our guest is comfortable.”

Manners of this magnitude were a rare thing in Hell. Very rare. Damn, and you couldn’t lie, it was making Mox _extra_ attractive. He was such a busybody, always doting on others before himself. Millie was a lucky girl indeed.

“Comfortable, huh?” said Millie, laughing. “You know, there are _other_ things you could do, hon.”

He blinked. “Other. . .things?”

She laughed again. “Kiss em’, you doof!”

Whoa. Not three steps in the door and Millie was shoving things right along. At once, Mox’s scarlet cheeks went a pinkish shade, gawking at his wife and tossing you a few nervous glances.

“W-wait a second, haha, I d-don’t think. . .”

It wasn’t an anxious statement because Mox didn’t like the idea. No, you could tell, he _did._ It was plain as the Pentagram Moon. Like you, there was a secret craving, and booze had brought it right to the surface.

“Pffffft, don’t think, do! C’mon, Moxxy, you’ve always prattled on about Anon! ‘He’s really nice, he seems fun, I’m glad he’s our friend!’ Riiiight?”

Okay, was it just you, or was Millie acting like she was about to see a gay porn? She flopped on the couch, watching you both with wide, excited eyes, chin propped on hand. She licked her alluring lips, savoring the mood.

Mox, in the meantime, was flustered. “MILLIE! Don’t _say that!”_

Well, that was enough embarrassed friend for you. Liquor guided you like a lamp in the dark and you came to him. A hand went to his shoulder, gentle, catching his attention. He gawked at you.

“Heh, you’re really cute, Mox,” you say. The other hand goes to his free shoulder. Not too much, not assertive. He’s still Mil’s husband and technical you’re friend. But goddam you want to kiss him.

So uh, you do.

You lean and with caring force press your lips against his in a smooth, sudden embrace. He squeaks, the motion taking him off guard, and you feel his frame tense. But he settles fast, relaxing, the combination of arousal and alcohol taking effect. The chemical rush hits you too, a surge of heat and want. It’s slow at first, a kind of “oh hell yes,” and then your heart beats fast, drowning in heat, pushing you to do more. That sort of “I can have this now, it’s here in my hands!”

Mox gets cozy, you know this because you feel his tongue touch your lips. Oho? Well you meet him at the door and soon you little touch of lips gets heated. Now you wrap your arms around him, one at the lower channel of his back, and you feel his hands grip your thighs.

“Mmmf. . .”

Millie blinks, grinning. “Holy heck!”

For a brief moment, you both break the kiss. Mox is wearing a half-lidded gaze, heady breaths escaping him. Like you, his head is rushing.

“Yes, er,” he says, “you’re very handsome too, uh, Anon.”

Aww, he’s trying, and it makes him that much more endearing. At this point, it’s pretty clear the three of you are cozy with this whole fiasco. As long as Millie approves and Mox likes it, you’re ready to rumble.

Mox clears throat, rubbing your sides. “Would you, um, prefer a bed?”

“No way!” interjects Millie. “Do it here! Haha! Come on, babe, this is inspiration, remember!? What’s saucier than on a couch or the wall?”

Mox glared at his wife, like the suggestion was too darn scandalous. You, however, just kiss Mox.

“I prefer you,” you say. Hah! _Great one, me,_ you think.

And you do. Mox, thankfully, takes to it, and he nods, glancing at your waist. “Erhem. Well then, uh, guess we should deal with these. . .” he says, fingers toying with the buttons of your pants.

Millie leaned as Mox ‘deals’ with your waistline, as you do him. It’s not quite feverish, not exactly that hungry _we-gotta-get-busy-now_ kind of lust, but then again, it’s never been Mox’s way. He’s always been prudent, kept-together. So, while he unfastens your pants, you work with his attire, undoing his front. In a few brief moments, his soft red flesh is exposed to the apartment air and you’re almost naked at the hips. You pull off your shirt until the only thing covering either of you are briefs. Doesn’t take a genius to see how Mox eyes your loins, nor you his. You’re both bulging, twitching.

“Oh, hang on!” Millie says with an excited chirp. She dashes over the couch and to – presumably – their bedroom. You’re not sure what that’s about but don’t give it a second though, you’re too focused on the cute imp.

“I forgot how big you were,” commented Mox, placing a palm over the growing bulge behind your briefs.

“. . .uh, you’ve never seen me that way,” you say. He chuckles.

“That’s what _you_ think.”

You can’t tell if he’s joking. It doesn’t matter. No more faffing around. You grab his hips and pull down his remaining tethers, exposing his cherry red cock as he flops free. He doesn’t resist, getting lost in himself, no doubt feeling that “proximity” lust. You run a hand over his supple rear, get a sense of his subtle dimensions, the lines of his frame, all the carvings to the clay, exploring him like a map.

His head tilts, appreciating the touches, getting you bare as well. You’re both nake and exposed, a situation you never expected, but are thankful for anyway. The pretense is collapsing too. This is what you call “proximity horny,” where you’re so goddamn close to someone else that it’s like your body is swallowed up by fire. The alcohol helps, and you start wanting and thinking in ways you don’t usually do.

Fuckin’ hell, now you just want Mox riding your dick, that’s about where the mind has gone.

Mox wordlessly grips your flank and strokes the inches, inciting a pleased groan from you. His fingers wrap with perfect tightness, palm as smooth as hot silk, stroking from base to tip. “Urghm, goddamn Mox, that’s good. . .” you say.

Good? Understatement. It feels damn nice, filling your loins with a wellspring of tingly, electric heat. A dribble of pre appears at your tip and he strokes a little faster, excited from your arousal.

“Oh? Well, ahem, it’s been a while since I practiced. . .”

Practiced? Couldn’t imagine what that meant. Didn’t matter, because Millie returned, this time holding an object.

“Did I miss anything!?” she yelled, fluttering back. Seeing you both nake and aroused, her pupils practically became hearts.

“Doesn’t look like it!” she said, tossing the object at you both. “Here, you’ll need that!”

You manage to catch it. It’s a small bottle of lubricant. Ah yes, of course, only thing that spoils a mood faster is going in dry. Mox blinks at it, narrowing eyes.

“I could’ve done that myself, you know,” he says with a glance to his wife. She laughs.

“ _Sugarbun,_ saliva doesn’t work as well as you think.”

He grumbles, holding out his hand to you. “May I?”

Oh. _Oh._ You realize Mox was probably willing to give you a blowie. Hot damn. “W-wait,” you say, “Is it too late to try the other thing?”

Millie throws her head with laughter. “Sorry! It is!” she said, looking to you.

“But don’t worry, I’ll make up for it later,” she added with a wink. Oh. Your heart skips a beat. Hell, right now you think you’d just be satisfied with Mox, almost forgetting about the threesome entirely. But Millie’s “hint” gets you even more revved up, if that were even possible.

In the meantime, Mox squired a thin lather of clear liquid, running it into his palms and then over your length. You groan with renewed ecstasy as it adds a pleasant slickness to your root, where his curling fingers squeeze and stroll over the sensitive flesh.

“Agggh, Mox, why are you so good at this,” you say with another groan, watching him ‘prep’ you. He only offers a sheepish smile.

“H-hah, no reason, hah,” he says, getting you to a nice, smooth sheen. You’re sodden with it now, lube and presex, and by golly you need to be inside someone. As for his reasons, well, maybe he’ll tell you some other time. For now. . .

You grab and lift him, pressing mouth to his. Now the smacks are hot, wanting, hungry. “Gnngm, you’re so fucking cute,” you say as he returns your smooches with his own. It’s downright intimate, in fact. The floodgates of nervous sexual tension the two of you have apparently built for so many years breaks apart and now it’s like you need each other. Mmf, he’s so soft to hold, and your size difference adds to the exotic appeal. Damn, Mil, you’re a lucky woman.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to just bend him over and fuck him into the ground but, defeating this lustful wish is the desire to keep him facing _you_. You shuffle, changing position, carrying him, collapsing back onto the couch while Millie jumped to the way, looking over the armrest as a thin trail of drool escaped the side of her lips.

You didn’t notice, too locked into throes with Mox. He nearly falls on you, palms resting on your shoulders with a firm grip, flesh starting to glisten with sweat. He sits in your lap, but not _on_ your lap, your shaft tucked between the split of his perky rump while his tail wraps around your thigh. His chest is against yours, a vapor of breath leaving him, legs trembling from the proximity of your length.

“Nnff, Anon,” he mumbles, his barriers and reservations long gone. “Is it a bad thing I want this?”

And by ‘this’ he means your length, of which he grabs with his left hand, gripping and stroking along the inches, directing it. He slides and gyrates his legs, teasing you with his _nearness,_ and you respond with an eager, rumbly chuckle.

“We are sinners, after all,” you say, still somehow coherent.

“Well, mmnf, technically I’m an Imp and. . .”

You silence him with a hard squeeze to his rather generous rump. “Shut up and fuck, baby,” you command, so hungry for him.

Orders is something Mox is rather good at taking, what with him being an employee of IMP. It seems to trigger him into a more submissive mode. His thighs push up and he raises his rump in position, where winking pucker nuzzles tip, tight as a drum.

“Don’t go easy,” he comments, almost challenging. “I can take it!”

Millie snickers, still watching. “Suuure you can.”

Can he? Can he not? You don’t intend to start rough, as much you’d love to work his imp pussy over. But everything worth enjoying takes time and buildup, and you have every intention of making sure this is enjoyable for both of you. With delicate, attentive fingers, you stretch his scarlet cheeks and exposed his hole, angling for a better insertion. He whimpers in an excited way, lowering until nuzzling pucker suckles your bellend. There’s a moment of eagerness, the hush before the plunge, while you feel Mox tighten his grip on your shoulders for support.

You take a moment to wet your digits and massage the opening of his pink ring, to which Mox squeaks with uncertainty. Probably feels odd, but you do it for a reason. Gotta’ get him relaxed, after all. Even with lubricant it’s easy to be _too much._

“Cutie,” you manage to see, watching his blushing, surprised reactions. Cute is an understatement he’s downright adorable. He’s also nice and bothered, like you, and you can tell he’s ready to play.

With one smooth motion, Moxxie descends upon your length, engulfing your cock into his tight, awaiting tunnel. He’s got a damn hard grip, and fuck, that was good. The lubricant assures slipping into Mox is as easy as putting on a sock and he sinks until he can’t anymore. Mox releases a long, tense groan, no doubt from getting _filled._ Not too much or too little, he’s stretched just right. As your tip nuzzles his prostate he shivers, flesh giving way to goosebumps, shoving himself into you, turning his head to ‘examine’ how your cock is buried in his supple tunnel.

“Agghf!” he mewls. You, in the meantime, grip him at the hips, your twitching flank _throbbing_ inside him.

“Goddamn babe,” you utter out, “fucking shit you’re tight!”

Ah yes, cleverness has long left you. Now comes the utterances of a horny idiot, not like you or Mox rightly care. He quiets you with a kiss, your tongues dancing together and exploring the other’s mouths in a voracious embrace. You, however, want more than Mox wearing you like a pocket puss, you need him like an animal. You completely forget Millie is even watching you both, much less the fact you’re inside her husband. Guess she’s into it too, huh?

With your root buried him, this gets Mox all aroused too, his own scarlet cock standing at attention, wriggling against your stomach. Thin rivers of presex dribble down the inches and the fact that _he’s_ aroused, that he’s so hard from riding you is orgasmic on its own.

Mox takes to your compliment by slowly rising and falling in firm, practiced strokes. His hips begin a rhythmic hop. You feel his tail wrap around your leg tight now, a coil, holding you in place (or perhaps supporting himself). Each motion of his backside encourages ample, heated moans to escape him, muffled with yours as the smaller imp starts to ride you into the metaphorical sunset.

Oh hell, it’s so good. The difference between taking your dick to see Mary and her five sisters versus the rolling hips of an eager imp is like night and day. His tunnel holds you close like you were made for it, suckling your veiny prick with slick tightness as you thrust back with reciprocating force. Naturally he’s working you over more with his rolling his rump and hips, taking charge while he coaxes your cock. Not that you’re complaining, Mox is a damn professional. Has he really never done this before? Or maybe. . .

While Mox continues bouncing on your dick like his life depends on it, you enjoy the rest of him, taking your kisses and supply them along his neck. You take a bit, a nibble, not enough to break the flesh but a primal indicator of “hey, I’m right here.” It incites a pleased moan from Mox and urges him to bounce harder, drawing you both closer and closer to peak. Intrigued, you kiss and bite him more, travelling to his slim chest, teasing his nips. Your hand trails up his smooth back, then to hair, tugging it, as though he might vanish if you don’t.

You proceed to work the imp over too, palm sliding across his defiant inches, feeling his slippery arousal coat your digits. Each stroke of your wrapping digits pulls more moans from him, forcing the imp to arch his head back from your teasing touches.

Maybe it’s the buildup or all that pent-up sexual tension you two have carried for so long. Whatever the reason, your orgasm hits and _hard._ Your entire frame shakes and trembles as a surge of white-hot bliss drives through your loins, an ecstasy that’s _paralyzing._ The alcohol and flirting and fucking one of your close friends have gotten you all sorts of _unf,_ coalescing into hot ropes of issue, draining yourself into Mox’s awaiting hole.

“NNH!”

Oh, the boy isn’t too far off with his own peak, cock twitching, only to burst with sudden jolts of himself. Lines of white escape his bellend, shooting between you, making a mess of your chest and stomach. He ceases his motions, no doubt utterly consumed with the nerve-y, all-consuming state of physical intensity, practically seeing moon and stars.

“Don’t tell me you two are already out of gas!” Millie chided, snickering into her hand. You wiped a bit of sweat from your brow but shook your head.

“Hell no.”

Even Moxxie wasn’t about to be doubted. “Give me some credit, sweetheart!”

Mil ignored the trail of sex snaking down his inner thigh, but took the opportunity to get “comfortable.” She stripped out of her top and pants, exposing her curvy, enticing frame. Like Mox, she was smaller than you, essentially a shortstack – not that you were complaining. Her hips wiggled and supple haunches bounced with her timid motions, before she undid her bra. Mox, of course, was stuck on the vision of his wife, and it was easy to see why (pun not intended).

Not difficult to understand why. Her petite yet plentiful tits were accented by a pair of black nips and her skin was complimented by hints of small dark freckles. All things considered, you were lucky enough to have a go at Mox, but looked like now it was time for the main course.

She gestured for both of you to come closer. “Can’t have my two favorite boys getting soft on me, can I?”

Whoa, she was serious? Working you both over at the same time? You glanced at Mox, uncertain, as he did you, but Millie’s enthusiasm was hard to deny. Guess handling a pair of cocks certainly served as musical “inspiration.”

“Well don’t stand there looking silly!” she commanded. No need to ask twice. You and Mox were soon at her mercy, where the impette slid to knees for better position. She looked up between you two, wearing an avid, manic look, hand swiftly jumping to both softened inches.

Of course, they were still sticky from your actions, but it didn’t stop her. Mox grumbled, humming a moan as his wife touched him. You mimicked the sound, hand to hip, watching her work your length back to stiff attention. She licked her black lips, snickering, pleased at her own efforts, palms slick and gooey from their previous “encounter.”

“You two don’t mind if I clean up a little, eh?” she said, wide yellow eyes glimmering with excitement. “After all, I _did_ say I’d make it up to ya, Anon.”

Mox huffed. “T-that’s a lot t-to do,” he whimpered, not because he didn’t relish the idea, but because, well, it _was_ a lot.

“You sure?” you manage to say. Which, of course, was a _very_ foolish question. The woman had handfuls of dick – if she wasn’t into it this wouldn’t even be happening!

Millie didn’t hesitate much longer. Like the two of you she was as bothered as a hot summer evening in Hell, quite het up thanks to your fucking in the living room. At once, her soft, supple lips came to each tip and applied an attentive kiss, smacking them with an adoring bess, leaving behind a trail of glaze. Both you and Mox shuddered as she continued, embracing each shaft with her lips.

“Tasty,” she commented. “Plenty better than that swill we had at the diner!”

Neither you or her husband could reply as the impette assaulted each cock with skilled fellatio. She started with you, slipping you into her hot, caressing maw, tongue curling around your inches as she suckled and tossed her head against the fleshy pole in gentle throws. She moaned as she worked, vibrating your hardened loins, sending new, radiating waves of electric heat through you. Then, as soon as she started, she released you with a loud ‘pop,’ switching to her husband and engulfing his root into her throat. Given the literal size difference, Mil was able to take Moxxie into her throat completely, outright gulping his cock, bulging her oral chamber as she tossed her dome against him with choked, muffled gurgles.

“Gmmmmmmgllk. . .”

Slobber and renewed presex trailed down her chin in thin rivers, splattering the apartment floor. Each time she released you or Mox from her mouth, her tongue was soaked with nectar, her cheeks hot and flustered. She panted, stroking you both, never leaving either of you unattended.

“Gghg, goddamn,” you say, melting. “You get this on the reg, Moxxy?”

Mox offered only a low grumbling sound, totally incoherent. Yeah, same. Mill giggled, kissing your tip again while she nudged his bellend with finger.

“I think dear hubs is a little out of it, eh Anon?”

And you aren’t? “S-sure,” you intone. She shrugs.

“Well, in that case. . . “

Here, Mill shifts position. She licks her lips, savoring the flavor of you and her beau, before stripping out of panties. She struts to the bed, hips swaying in alluring fashion, your eyes admittedly locked on her plump rear. She straddled the bed, lying to her back while looking to you, gesturing for Mox.

“C’mere baby,” she said to Mox, who – with the last ounces of brainpower – managed to trot over to his girl.

He was positioned perfect to ram his flank into her throat, while she grinned at you. Her finger slid to her sodden cleft, stretching her supple lips and exposing her juicy pussy. “As for _you,_ don’t think I’m letting that dick get away!”

Maybe pre-drunk, pre-naked you would’ve had some reservations left, considering the relationship triangle here. But the second your eyes spied Millie’s dripping folds, your brain went into overdrive. _Get inside that_ was the logical conclusion from your observation.

“You’re the boss,” you say. Guess she sort of was, technically? So, like a dog with a bone you go to Mil while she grabs her husband’s waist, drawing him to her. She laughed, her upside-down head licking at Mox’s tip once again as the imp let off an enticed groan.

“Ghrg, we’ve never done it like this,” Mox wheezed, seeing stars. With gentle pressure he cupped Mil’s cheeks, supporting himself while she cackled in response.

“Puts a fire under that muse’s ass, doesn’t it?” she tossed back while you took position. Your shimmering tip nudged at her entrance as your palms gripped her smooth thighs, and you couldn’t fight a squeeze to get a feel for her supple flesh. Millie cooed in response, quickly glancing at you inches, awaiting with excitement. If someone told you you’d be spitroasting your friend after having fucked another friend, you’d want to know where they were getting their drugs from.

“C’mon, don’t keep a lady waiting!” Millie barked, no doubt as eager as you. Didn’t have to tell you twice.

Upon the command, you pushed yourself into her suckling snatch, an easy entry. Your shaft was still slick from everything previous, you slipped in without trouble. What with the size difference, Mill was tight, wrapped around you like a drum, a girlish moan drifting from her as you buried yourself to threshold. As you did, she pulled Mox into her awaiting throat, burying his inches much like she’d done before until both of you had her impaled on your poles.

There was a tense moment, a pause where the three of you were stuck in this pause of physical intensity. Damn it felt incredible to have Mil’s puss dribbling on your dick and no doubt Mox was flying with his flank so lovingly attended by the wife. But, hunger demanded more, and you couldn’t hold back any longer.

You started a slow rhythm of tossing your hips into Millie’s awaiting snatch, the slippery root sending dewdrops of sex splashing around the coupling with each stroke. Her folds were so snug, lower lips choking your inches, milking it for its issue. Given how she was technically smaller, it made her far tighter than you expected, though you weren’t complaining. You lifted her legs for better positioning where her ankles went to your shoulders, and each swing of hips forced a little bounce through her petite frame, causing perky tits to jiggle with timid wobbles.

“Nnnnf gffff!”

Millie let off cries of delight, though they were muffled by her current ‘predicament.’ Mox, it appeared, was no longer playing the submissive role. Overtaken by hungry lust, his hips battered Mil’s throat with rapid thrusts, clap of motions audible, intermixed with Mil’s grunts as the imp made use of the sloppy oral chamber. It was only natural, you couldn’t toss all that teasing one’s way and not expect to literally get fucked in response.

As Mil made a sloppy mess of her husband, black lips leaving behind streaks of satin and trails of saliva, you felt yourself want _more._ Thrusts hastened, transitioning from smooth pumps to hammering grinds. You leaned now, nearly pressing Millie’s leg to shoulders, a hand going to grip one of her supple breasts, squeezing and kneading it as you bucked with firmer motions. Every strike sent thick snakes of sex rushing from your coupling as you quite literally pounded her like a nail, testes slapping against her scarlet flesh.

“Hlllkkss. . .”

At this point Millie was helpless against the dual dicking, her frame lax as her husband and friend bounced into her, using her holes like convenient sex pockets. It wasn’t long now, not long at all. Despite hitting your peak before, you feel the growing surge return, that hot excitement combined with a high-note of physical intensity. Judging by the way Mox sounded, he was close too.

The three of you thrust together with fluid, avid strikes until finally hitting the physical crescendo, the almighty peak sending you into bliss. You shuddered and nearly collapsed on Millie as your cock twitched to life, summoning new waves of hot seed, pouring into her as you held yourself still, jolts of issue flooding her tunnel. Mox wasn’t long after, grabbing his wife by the head and bucking helplessly as his seed drained into her awaiting throat.

“GGMMK!”

Mil’s own cleft started to seep with juices, her fingers rushing to clitoral nub to push herself to peak. In moments, the three of you drenched the bedding with _yourselves,_ leaving a sticky mess of sodden sheets in your wake.

Panting comes after, as does the heavy, exhausting afterglow, of such buzzing intensity it kind of hurts to move. You think you black out.

-*-

One shower and stop for fast food later, it’s like it never happened.

Or, rather, it’s more accurate to say nothing’s changed, exactly. Mox and Mil are on the couch, the former tuning his guitar while Millie simpers about potential song notes and titles. But what _didn’t_ happen was the “weirdness” you expected, or the notion that banging both your married friends might leave things uncomfortable. But it doesn’t. In fact, you feel lighter. A warm, tingly happiness unrelated to sex has taken hold and you feel much closer to the duo than you have with anyone else. There’s a lot of trust between you three and it’s. . . nice. Really nice. To have that kind of relationship in Hell? Speaks volumes about you three.

“Maybe we add a low note here. . . then mix with a bass. . . and. . .”

“Honey,” Millie chirped. “We don’t _have_ a bass.”

Mox blinked. “Oh.” He glances to you. “Hey Anon, you can play bass, right?”

You set down the cheap burger you were munching on (a nice post-sex meal), hesitating. “Uhhh. . .”

Millie laughed. “That’s about all the skill you need, An, don’t worry.”

Well, guess you play bass now. But if it means you get to help these two with music, you aren’t complaining. You look out the stained apartment window, and it’s still raining.

Living in Pentagram City ain’t so bad.


End file.
